


what one learns in the night, carries through the day

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Series: Marie's HP shorts 2020 [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom Pansy Parkinson, Dom/sub Undertones, Everybody Lives, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Inexperienced Hermione Granger, Masturbation, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Oral Sex, Overhearing Sex, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, guided masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24684751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: Pansy does notlikeGranger, no matter what Draco and Blaise have to say about it. She does not have an interest in her, does not wonder what her lips taste like or what she looks like first thing in the morning when she wakes up... Not at all.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Series: Marie's HP shorts 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747861
Comments: 2
Kudos: 112
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	what one learns in the night, carries through the day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [consumedly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumedly/gifts).



> Hope you like this dear recipient!
> 
> This was betad by the amazing B, once again, thank you hon!

The House of the Blacks was always an object of both fascination and disdain for Pansy, something of a legend in the pureblood circles that, as a teenager, she couldn't believe had gone to the one renegade of such a large family. When it turned out she was the asshole in the picture and managed to challenge her own beliefs long enough to realize Draco was right and Potter wasn't quite the dirty gum under her shoe, it became more of a place that inspired her both nostalgia, and an intense curiosity. 

The fact that Granger and Weasley had broken up a month or so prior therefore had nothing to do with the fact that she accepted Harry's invitation to join the Golden Trio, their spouses - Draco included - and other friends, together with Blaise, in their Christmas celebrations this year. 

She simply had always wanted to see the interior of the Black house, and hence would be remiss to pass up the opportunity to do exactly that.

For all that it wasn't the first time that Pansy had to spend time surrounded by the Gryffindor gang, she was perpetually surprised when it turned out it wasn't as much of a bother as she always thought it would be. Again, her enjoyment of the loud and messy dinner had nothing to do with the fact that she was sat opposite Granger, nor anything to do with the black silk shirt the other witch wore, the top few buttons left open and the strips of fabric that had been knotted in a bow left to hang down soon after the woman's arrival ( _"I can't breathe with that thing"_ ). Nothing whatsoever. Nothing at all. 

The way Hermione picked the red iced cherry from her cupcake dessert and wrapped her lips around it... well. Draco elbowed her just in time. Probably. Even if she hadn't been staring, at all, just, looking closely?

The same Draco who could barely keep his jaw off the floor when his precious Potter passed his hands in his hair for the umpteenth time, or laughed, or plain said anything. Like he could talk.

The fact that it took Blaise raising an eyebrow at her - a look she knew all too well, a look that meant mischief - for Pansy to finally stop glancing at Granger every two seconds was embarrassing. 

It took literal ages for everyone to either pass out on one couch or another or go to their assigned beds. The number of bedrooms in such a narrow house didn't have anything to envy to the various manors and mini-castles of the other families, now that Pansy thought about it. She rather liked the dark, yet warm atmosphere it kept, amused by the instructions to not, under any circumstance, touch the curtain in the hallway - the threat of the mythical Walburga and her strident hate-spewing certainly kept her away. 

"Want one?" Draco brushed their shoulders together, interrupting Pansy's daydreaming rather effectively. 

They stood in the door leading to the small garden behind the house, the moon high in the sky and not a sound to be heard save for Draco lighting his smoke. 

"I'd rather keep my teeth white and my lungs pink, thank you very much," 

Draco gave her an unimpressed look but didn't respond. Until he did, sort of.

"If you like her, you should do something about it." He said. 

Pansy's eyes widened, her hands tightening on her elbows as she'd crossed her arms to guard herself from the cold - mesh shirts could only do so much - and gave her best friend a side glance. Draco ignored her, he just kept on smoking. 

"I don't like her." She replied after a while. 

"Oh you don't?" That came from Blaise, and made them both jump in surprise. 

"Good lord, Zabini!" Draco groaned, "warn a lad, clear your throat, _something_."

"You done?" Blaise dismissed. "Because I believe, more important matters are being discussed." 

The pointed look both men gave her then made Pansy want to shrink on herself, or flee, or snap. She did none of those things. Instead, she stole Draco's cigarette from his lips and took a long drag of it as she turned around to face the garden again. When Blaise came to hug her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, she let it happen too.

"Hermione is nice. She's intelligent enough to keep up with you, which, that's no news of course. She's also funny... she'd be good for you. Is all I'm saying." Blaise said softly, his lips so close to her ear Pansy felt shivers running down her spine. 

In lieu of answering him though, she laced her fingers with his own on her stomach, then gave Draco what was left of his cigarette back. 

"I don't like her." She repeated.

"Whatever you say, Parks," Draco huffed. 

"That's right," she nodded, dropping a ghost of a kiss on Blaise's temple before pulling away. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go find the room Potter said was mine for the night."

"Third floor, on the left,"

"Yes, I remember," and with that, Pansy squeezed her best friends' shoulders and walked past them, back through the long kitchen, the sitting room, and into the staircase. 

It would have been pitch black if it wasn't for the suspended lanterns scattered throughout the property and house, and it was completely silent. She would have thought twenty-five was young enough to not be out like a light at 1am, but apparently not. Something to do with children exhausting her tentative friends. How glad was she not to have any, or any plans to change that, for that matter. 

She walked up the stairs carefully, wincing a bit at the way every other step creaked under her feet. She found the railing, appreciating the coolness of it and shook her head, trying to get Blaise and Draco's words out of her head. Or the image of Hermione licking her honey-covered teaspoon after the table had been cleared. 

_When had ‘Granger’ become ‘Hermione’?_ She brushed the errant question aside.

Pansy didn't have the slightest idea of where anybody was staying, apart from Potter and Draco on the first floor, but when she made it to the third and the door on the _right_ stood ajar, she couldn't help but walk to it and push it further open to take a peek. Surely it was a good idea to see who was staying across the room from her. Nothing more than mere curiosity.

Which immediately backfired. 

How the fuck did the sounds the room's occupant was making not register before Pansy was literally looking right at her was a wonder. It had been so quiet, she should have heard. 

Or maybe Hermione had been silent before. 

Either way, the collar of Pansy’s mesh sweater suddenly felt a lot tighter, her shamelessly short leather skirt still too long and too heavy for the spectacle she was bearing witness to. 

The woman was splayed on the bed, which happened to be angled at a three-quarter angle from the door, and Pansy had to bite her lips not to gasp. 

She was touching herself. She was touching herself with her eyes shut and her face looking so peaceful, much more so than Pansy had ever seen her. The way her hands travelled down her body, up and down her chest and over the inside of her thighs... it was maddening. And seeing Hermione naked for the first time was already something, but seeing her full breasts move with the rhythm of her breathing, in cadence with her arms as they pushed them one way or the other while her hands kept roaming her body... it all made Pansy wish it were her palms stroking down the woman's legs, and gripping the curve of her hips, and massaging her breasts, and... 

She'd made a noise. She didn't know what, but one moment she was staring at Hermione's quiet face, and the next she was looking directly into her deep brown eyes. Shit. 

Hermione's brows furrowed, first in confusion, then in fear, Pansy noted, until her cheeks warmed up and she drew her arms back and shot up to sit up and cross her legs, hiding most of her body from view. Her mouth opened and closed around nothing. Pansy struggled too.

For all the things she could have said, all the excuses she could have made, Pansy could only step further into the room, and close the door with her back. 

"Don't stop, please," it was barely a whisper, but it made Hermione's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes widening once more. 

"What?" Hermione hissed. 

"Don't stop," Pansy answered, hesitating but eventually taking another step in the direction of the bed. "Please,"

The silence of the room was deafening, heavy, charged with a tension that coated Pansy's back in a thin layer of sweat. It was uncomfortable and yet it made her want to frot her thighs together. It was a turning point she hadn't been ready for, and judging by Hermione's thoughtful, yet nervous expression, she hadn't either.

"You want me to..." Hermione whispered, cutting herself off, her cheeks reddening from more than the remnants of the pleasure she'd brought herself just moments before. 

"Keep touching yourself, yes," Pansy squared her shoulders, some of her usual confidence filtering back in. 

"I've never," the woman waved in Pansy's direction. "Done that before."

"Touched yourself?" Pansy arched an eyebrow, aware of the smirk that tilted her lips up. 

Hermione huffed. 

"Been with a woman." 

Pansy sobered up at that. She'd wondered. For all the moments she'd been unable to ignore her attraction to Hermione, for all the times she'd flipped her friends off and denied any such feelings existed, she had wondered if Hermione was straight all the way, or if her potential advances could ever amount to anything. The slytherin in her had chosen safety without the necessary information to act on. She didn't have much of a choice but to ask now, though. 

"Do you want to? Be with a woman?"

It was the way Hermione's lips parted first, then the look of her hair cascading down what Pansy could see of her back as Hermione pushed it away from her face and neck - her neck, it made Pansy's mouth water - those were her first hint of an answer. 

"I'd want to be with you, rather than any woman out there, yes."

"That," Pansy blinked, "that doesn't tell me much." 

"What do you want me to tell you then? You're the one who came into my room at... almost 2 and watched me." 

"You've been watching me, too." 

"I have, yes." 

"Then what?" 

"Then tell me what you want." Hermione concluded, her arms crossed over her chest squeezing her breasts up. 

Pansy laughed, whether nervously or not, she couldn't quite tell, but she did. "I want a lot of things."

"What are they then?" Hermione asked, raising her chin. Funny Hermione indeed. 

Pansy flexed and relaxed her hands at her sides, her few experiences in the scene rushing back, and making her want to go faster, and harder right then and there. But that wouldn't be quite the same fun.

"You bringing yourself pleasure like a naughty girl in the night, doll," Pansy pursed her lips, watching Hermione lose all composure.

"Fuck." 

Pansy tsked, walking closer again, until she reached the end of the bed and sat there, smiling. "That's not quite the mood we want, now, is it?"

She reached forward, grazing a single manicured nail up Hermione's ankle, and calf, winking at her when her legs reflexively jerked slightly open. 

"Go on, Granger, back to where we started," she said, projecting a confidence she half-felt, half-forced. 

Hermione's hesitation could be read, clear as day, on her face, but gradually, the more they looked into each other's eyes, it left, and finally she was moving. 

Her hair fanned across her pillow, her breasts flattened across her chest as she laid back, and her stomach sunk in as she tried to breathe normally. Then only did she let her legs fall flat on the bed again, and then again, agonizingly slowly, she spread them for Pansy to watch.

Keeping a stern enough face not to let her awe transpire just yet proved difficult, so Pansy did something highly uncharacteristic - she dove head first. 

"Spread your legs further," she whispered, and then louder, "Touch your breasts, show me how pretty they are."

Hermione's lashes fluttered, her hands jumped off the bed slightly before she nodded, like she was steadying herself to carry out the demand. 

_Good girl_ , Pansy smiled to herself. She'd missed this, guiding someone through the motions, ordering them into one thing, then another. It was so easy to fall back into the rhythm of it.

"You do that often?" Hermione breathed out as she finally pressed her palms to her breasts, cupping them and stroking over her nipples, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. Her voice had such a rough feel to it all of a sudden, such a warmth to the way her tone went up in question, Pansy was quite glad she was wearing a skirt instead of pants - it made her toeing off her heels and kneeling on the bed with her thighs spread a lot more relieving. 

"Order pretty girls in the bedroom? Has been a while, but yes. I've been around enough to tell you're not doing your maximum here," Pansy sneered a little, delighted at the new hitch in Hermione's breathing. 

"Help me?" 

"Careful what you wish for, beauty," Pansy grinned, which in turn made Hermione laugh and wasn't that the most charming thing? Well, actually no. 

The "o" of her mouth when Pansy rose to her knees and put a hand on each of Hermione's knees before parting them brusquely, that look, was everything. Hermione practically giggled when Pansy winked, and then she whimpered, because Pansy didn't lose much time lowering herself to be level with the woman's cunt. Arousal had been burning her inside and out for long enough, same as her need for Hermione's skin, and anything else she'd be willing to let Pansy see, and feel. 

"The things I want to do to you…" Pansy murmured, looking past the wetness of Hermione's sex to gaze into her eyes, enraptured with the need she saw there, with that lust that she'd never seen on Hermione and which looked so good. So hot. 

"Please…" 

"I like the sound of you pleading, I really, really like it," Pansy mused as she leaned forward more and more, her breath ghosting over Hermione's flesh. 

Teasing her further was tempting, especially with the way her legs tensed under her hands as Pansy brought them higher and under her thighs so she could grip Hermione's hips. She didn't tease. She licked. She mouthed, right at Hermione’s swollen clit, at the wet slick that was pooling at her opening. She grinned, right into her taste as Hermione's legs spread further still, until the sides of her knees laid flat with the bed and Pansy had all the access she needed.

She gave tiny, kitten licks, and smiled when Hermione moaned. She was beyond ready to make this woman unravel, beyond ready for the way Hermione ground down on Pansy's face when her rhythm didn't satisfy her. 

Pansy tightened her hold on her hips, and went at it harder. She closed her teeth around Hermione's clit and grazed it, repeatedly, then sucked on it, drawing one of her hands back to feel how wet she was. 

There was enough slick there for Pansy's fingers to get just as wet and she didn't refrain from pushing them in, almost brutally.

"Fuck, fuck, bloody..."

"Of course you'd like that," Pansy rumbled, her voice reaching lows she didn't know she could form. "That too, I presume?" She asked before she started jamming her fingers in more and more roughly. 

The resulting squelches made Pansy moan too, delightful little wet noises of pleasure joining Hermione's loud panting. It was all Pansy could hear, all she knew anymore. The arch of Hermione's back that she felt when her hand slid from her hip, the heat of her cunt pressed against her face, as close as it would go, the taste of her arousal, more and more prominent the more she fucked her fingers in and sucked on the bundle of nerves in her mouth…

Now and then, she strayed away from Hermione's core to mouth heavy kisses along the inside of her thighs, going as far as nipping the sensitive skin under her knees before her neck screamed at her to stop. She used both her hands when she rose from between the woman's legs. A little maneuvering brought Pansy to lay down next to Hermione's naked body, the leather of her skirt cold compared to the furnace of Hermione's skin. 

She kept fucking her fingers into her at the same time as she traced harder and harder circles around her clit, teasing and playing, finding what Hermione liked best and breathing harder and harder in time with her. When the urge to kiss Hermione's parted lips became too prominent, Pansy bowed her head and took one of her nipples in her mouth instead, and sucked. The same suction she'd applied down there made Hermione's back buck off the bed with a drawn-out whimper when applied to her breasts. So Pansy repeated the action, and repeated it again, with her other breast. 

She wished it would have taken longer, but she'd always been able to tell when a girl was on the verge of coming. So Pansy let go of the skin she'd been torturing in Hermione's neck, going faster with her hands as she found the woman's ear. She smiled at the noises she was making. So close and beautiful. The scent of Hermione's shampoo mixed with that of her arousal and Pansy wasn't quite sure what to call what she was feeling but it most certainly went beyond arousal. 

"You are very pretty when you go mad like this," she whispered, her voice sultrier than normal yet completely natural, "mad with pleasure, and lust," Hermione's hands that had been white-knuckling the sheets until then flew up, one of them going to tangle in her hair, pulling slightly, and the other finding Pansy's knee and holding on for dear life. "Will you come for me? Will you… scream for me?" 

Hermione's eyes, unfocused yet searching her face as she drew back, made sparks run down Pansy's spine. The hand she had in her hair found Pansy's cheek as she turned her head on the pillow they were now sharing? It made Pansy's mouth part even though Hermione was the one moaning and gasping all she had still. 

"If you kiss me, I might," Hermione whispered.

How unfair that this woman's voice had been enough to make Pansy wet in the most innocuous situations for weeks, months even now. How very unfair that she'd dreamed of hearing words like these coming from her and directed at her for just as long. Pansy hid her near-sob in her compliance of Hermione's demand. 

Their lips joined for the first time, their eyes closed and their bodies still moving in time with Pansy's touches and strokes and Hermione's responses. It was softer than Pansy had pictured, it was hotter even, than the images she'd fallen asleep to without admitting it to herself. 

Hermione came, her body tensing up all at once as they kept kissing, her long moan falling right onto Pansy's tongue as she licked the seam of her lips. Her hand fell to Pansy's neck, her knees almost closing on themselves when Pansy kept giving little strokes to her clit, carrying her through the aftershocks until it became too much. 

"I was thinking about you," Hermione gasped into the next kiss. "Thinking about this skirt, and this shirt, and these… lips," she bit on Pansy's bottom lip gently. 

"You were?" Pansy breathed heavily still, her own arousal up to soaking her panties now. 

Hermione hummed. 

"Why don't you keep telling me what you want?" She said as she rolled and straightened up until she was leaning over Pansy, straddling her above her leather skirt. "Why don't you teach me…" the woman slid a hand under herself and between Pansy's legs, riding up her skirt to press it against her dark green underwear, "how to please you?" 

She started grinding the heel of her hand against Pansy's cunt almost immediately so it took Pansy a minute to even want to answer in words. Only when Hermione gave her an awkward kind of wink did Pansy laugh and rise to her elbows.

"I can do that. Yeah, I can teach you."


End file.
